


A Permanent State of Ludicrousy

by Xanisis



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M, benedick and beatrice are massive nerds, i just really wanted to add my two cents before it's not longer canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanisis/pseuds/Xanisis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t like him. She doesn’t like him at all. That’s ridiculous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Permanent State of Ludicrousy

She had been in love once. Or at least she had thought she’d been in love. She was fourteen and she fell in love with smirks and lanky limbs and Doctor Who references and biting wit and laughter and long summer days and Ben, her Ben. But it turns out he wasn’t her Ben after all. He wasn’t her anything.

 

* * *

 

They never talk about that summer, Beatrice thinks sometimes that maybe she imagined it. It makes it easier if she pretends that she never knew him, that he is just some guy in her English class, endlessly irritating with his arrogantly relaxed posture, too loud voice, and obnoxious commentary. She can hate that guy. She can hate Benedick, but she can’t quite bring herself to hate Ben.

 

* * *

 

Contrary to popular belief, her life doesn’t revolve around Ben. Her life is baking with Hero, flour coating their hair and their laughter bright and clear, and skype calls with her parents, and texting wars with Pedro, and movie nights where she and Leo and Hero all pile up like puppies on the couch. Her life is _Frankenstein_ and _Game of Thrones_ and Benedict Cumberbatch (and if another male named Benedick pops into her mind it’s only because he’s a total asshole. Obviously).

 

* * *

They decide to throw a party, because they’re teenagers and there are no adults keeping tabs on them and it had to happen at some point. She gets drunk--drunker than she likes to, passing the tipsy point and veering into full on wasted territory--and ends up making out with Pedro. It’s not bad, the making out part, but it doesn’t feel right. He’s a good kisser--even if the alcohol makes his mouth soft and sloppy and she placed him in the platonic friend category a long time ago-- and yet she feels nothing when their mouths meet, just a sort of pleasant buzzing, but she thinks that’s probably more from the vodka than from Pedro.

 

* * *

 

“Is Pedro your boyfriend then?” Ben asks her several days later, and there’s something about the too casual way he asks her, eyes flitted to the side, hands wrapped around that stupid jersey, that makes her pause.

 

“No,” she says, actually turning to look at him, “We’re just friends. Why? Are you jealous? Aww, honestly he’s not your type.”

 

He starts backtracking almost immediately, hands in the air, face slightly too animated to be believable.

 

“Yes. Yes. I’m jealous. No. No. No. I prefer a human with a few more curves,” he makes a crude gesture, eyes on the camera instead of on her, “actually, for any ladies out there.”

 

She thinks maybe he lives in a permanent state of eyebrow raised ludicrousy.

 

“You just mimed an object. Not a human. Interesting. Interesting.”

 

He makes an indistinct noise, face contorting with the movement, and he almost makes her forget where this started in the first place, but she still remembers the way that he looked at her when he caught her and Pedro kissing and she almost wonders. But not quite.

 

“Anyways,” he starts and life goes on.

 

* * *

 

She likes Pedro, she does. She thinks he’s a good sort, a good friend. But she’s supposed to be the funny one. She’s the one that jokes around and makes funny faces and doesn't wear makeup and is one of the guys.

 

So, she didn’t notice the signs: the leaning in and the lingering stares or whatever.  She just assumed that he was being nice. Pedro’s nice to everyone, she wasn’t just going to assume that he was being particularly nice to her, because of well, _things_. And it’s just, he’s Pedro and she’s Beatrice.

 

And if she laughs when he says, “I could be your Prince Charming”, it’s because she has never been one to need a Prince Charming or anyone at all. She’s happy on her own. More than happy. She sees all these girls moping around like they’re broken, looking for their “other half”, and she just doesn’t understand. It’s not like _she’s_ missing anything. She’s already her own person, it’s not like she’s missing a limb or something.

 

* * *

 

Beatrice relates the story later to Hero in classic Beatrice fashion with voices and dramatic movements and flailing arms. Hero listens with her arms crossed and her face pulled into a frown.

 

“What?” Beatrice asks when she finishes.

 

“It’s just..” Hero trails off.

 

She still looks put out, well as put out as Hero ever looks, eyebrows drawn in, lips drawn down.

 

“Just what?”

 

“Well, don’t you like Pedro?”

 

Bea thinks of Pedro as a twelve-year-old boy, all floppy blonde hair and welcoming smiles, and the effortless that he made her feel like she belonged.

 

“Pedro? Yeah sure. I mean, who doesn’t like Pedro? He’s like _the_ guy to like. All around great guy, that’s Pedro.”

 

Hero looks at her long enough that Bea starts to feel uncomfortable, tucking her hair behind her ear and fiddling around with her cup of tea.

 

“I just mean, Bea, you haven’t even _liked_ anyone since-”

 

“Oh no, we don’t talk about that. Ever. That’s a rule.”

 

“I’m just saying, maybe there’s a reason that you’re refusing to date anyone. That’s all I’m saying.”

 

“Oh no. No. No. No. That’s not it at all. I just don’t want to date anyone. Ever. I don’t see what your problem is with that.”

 

“I don’t have a problem with it, I just want you to be happy.”

 

“Alright good. I’m happy. Case closed. We’re done here. Alright?”

 

* * *

 

It’s not long after the whole Pedro thing that Benedick starts acting really weird around her, like really weird. Like weirder than normal. He’s all effusive and blabbering and he stops making insults and just sort of amps up the innuendos but with the addition of this weird smile and like hopeful eyes like he’s expecting something of her and he calls her love. Who does that? And she had thought he couldn’t have been any weirder.

 

* * *

 

_“Benedick is in love with Beatrice.”_

 

Benedick.

 

In _love_.

 

With her.

 

_What?_

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t like him. She doesn’t like him at all. That’s ridiculous.

 

* * *

 

He’s just obnoxious, okay? And she doesn’t like him. That’s not a crime, is it? And it’s not like it changes anything, that he likes her or anything. He should just make up his mind is all, like he said he didn’t want to be in a relationship, like ever, he made that freakishly clear, so she would appreciate if he would just stick to that. He can’t just change his opinions on people all willy nilly, that’s not fair. And they just don’t get on, because he’s a dick, obviously. And this doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change anything at all.

 

* * *

 

She starts avoiding him, because if she stays around him too much he might do something stupid like smile at her--not smirk, smile-- and she might do something stupid like smile back.

 

* * *

 

Everything changes after Hero’s birthday party. It’s like the world turns around and she doesn’t quite know where she stands with everyone. Like no one is who she thought they were and things that she thought were constant aren’t constant anymore. She feels like she’s floating, way high up above the clouds, and there’s nothing tethering her anymore. She’s lost.

 

* * *

 

Ben shows up three days after the entire disaster. Hero is a mess. She tries to pretend like she’s not--she gets up and makes waffles the next day like nothing’s wrong--but Beatrice can tell that she’s hurting and if Hero is hurting, so is Beatrice.

 

Beatrice opens the door and Ben is standing on the front steps. It brings back a rush of four year old memories and she almost sees a different boy there--holding his _Lord of the Rings_ box set and bouncing on the toes of his feet, so excited to see her that he can’t hold still-- but that boy is gone.

 

“Benedick,” she says, too surprised to come up with a witty retort, “What are you doing here?”

 

“Beatrice,” he says, clearing his throat and it’s awkward. Things are almost never awkward between the two of them, but they don’t quite know how to interact with each other without trading insults, “Uh, can I come in?”

 

“Uh. Sure. I guess. If you want.”

 

He nods his head, but doesn’t move, waiting for her to get out of the doorway. _Benedick is in love with Beatrice._ She blushes and moves aside to let him, but there’s still a rushed moment where he passes her and they are momentarily crushed together and she can’t quite breathe.

 

* * *

 

It’s not like she’s in love or anything, it’s just that he may not be as bad as she previously thought that he was. Like, it is potentially possible that he possesses some redeeming qualities, like a brain and a lack of the misogynistic tendencies that apparently all of his friends possess. So, he’s not entirely detestable. That doesn’t mean anything at all.

 

* * *

 

Beatrice is tired, like to the bone tired, where she can feel every muscle in her body dragging her into the plastic chair. She’s the kind of tired you only reach when you wake up at two a.m because you think your cousin and best friend and possibly the single greatest human being you have ever met might be dying. She lets her head flop against her chest, raising her hand to rub at her eyes and massage her sore temples.

 

She hears the scrape of a chair being pulled out, the noise stark against the near silence of the waiting room, and looks up and Ben is there. His hair is a ruffled mess and his eyes look bleary and he's wearing his tardis t-shirt and a pair of checkered pajama pants and she can't believe he came.

 

"Hero doing alright?" He asks, sinking down into the chair beside her, legs sticking out at ridiculous, familiar angles.

 

"Honestly," she replies, running a hand through her hair, "I have no fucking idea. I'm scared shitless, Ben."

 

He almost starts at the use of his nickname, but just nods his heads, his face more serious than she's used to seeing it. She's having trouble looking at him when he looks at her like that, like he would do anything for her.

 

"Alright. Okay," he says, "what can I do?"

 

"Just be here," she says, and it comes out almost like a question.

 

"Alright. Okay. Yeah. I can do that. Cool."

 

He lets out a puff of air, sinking further into the plastic of the hospital chair.

 

She doesn't really know what to say after that, so they fall into silence. She can hear the tapping of Ben's chucks against the linoleum, a comforting rhythm. She's having trouble keeping her eyes open; they keep fluttering shut, the world blurring out around her, just flashes of color and sound. It feels like it’s been ages since she last slept, a time before Leo shaking her awake in a panic and the loud blare of the ambulance  filling  up their entire house and the feeling of her heart stopping as she’d  watched Hero get wheeled away. She feels like she’s sat in this plastic chair for several life times.

 

"Here," she hears through the haze, feeling Ben's hands guiding her head to his shoulder.

 

He's bony, but her head fits well in the crook of his neck and she can smell him there, something like sweat and cologne and four summers ago and Ben. It shouldn't be familiar, but it is.

 

She can feel his hands carding through her hair, the touch soft and gentle and soothing and something that she would never associate with Ben. She falls asleep that way, pressed against him, both of them almost breathing the same air.

 

* * *

 

Hero falls in love all starry eyes and gushy dates and romantic gestures. Beatrice thinks it’s disgusting. Pedro falls in love all soulful love songs and confused bumblings and misunderstandings and “you always know how to make me laugh”. Beatrice thinks it’s a pathetic.

 

Beatrice falls in love all Gryffindor recklessness and snarky comments and “benedick is in love with beatrice” and “turn the camera off” and concerned eyes and fuck everything, she falls in love with Ben.

 


End file.
